


Her Fool

by Meilan_Firaga



Series: 25 Days of Christmas Fics - 2016 [10]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, holiday fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 11:46:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8843482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meilan_Firaga/pseuds/Meilan_Firaga
Summary: The things we do for love...





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AsbestosMouth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsbestosMouth/gifts).



> Day 10 of my 2016 attempt at 25 Days of Christmas Fics.
> 
> Prompt 10: Santa Encounter
> 
> Also, a small gift for AsbestosMouth for her lovely depiction of Walda in Baked that made me want to add this pairing to the Radio Waves universe I'm working up.

There were few things that could make Roose Bolton willingly play the fool. He didn’t mind people underestimating him if he knew he was going to win out in the end. Still, he had always made sure that whoever saw him as a fool knew full well that he’d been playing out a plot by the time he got his desired results. He was happy to seem foolish right up until that moment someone else discovered that they’d been horribly played. It was a joy and a delight to watch faces fall and hopes die. It was the best part of any day in court. He wasn’t going to be crushing hopes this time. No, he was going to be creating them. He was going to bring smiles and laughter. He was going to be a complete fool to anyone old enough to realize who was behind the costume he was currently stuffing with pillows. There would be no gleeful reward for this foolish endeavor.

“Oh, Roosey…”

Well, there would be a reward. Just not a public one.

Roose turned around in the small office at the back of  _ Walda’s Whimsey _ to face his wife, feeling the startling thump of his heart as he watched the delight play across her face. He was never going to get used to the steady beat that came any time she gave him one of those beatific smiles. All his life he’d thought love a, well, a  _ foolish _ endeavor. Yet, here he was dressed in head to toe red velvet with every pillow from his bed shoved somewhere against his thin body. 

Walda’s hands were clasped in front of mouth where a dazzling smile rested. The tiniest hint of tears--the kind Roose had long ago learned were called ‘happy tears’ and not something that should cause him to have someone murdered--trailed from the corners of her eyes. “Oh, this is going to make the children so happy,” she enthused, shuffling forward to poke and prod him until he sat in her office chair. She began to fuss with the fluffy curl of white for his beard and wig, sorting through the bits until she came up with a small tube of Spirit Gum. Roose watched with a tiny, half-smile on his face until she was completely focused on laying everything out before she attached it to his face. Then he leaned forward, took her hips in his hands, and tugged her into his lap. She gave a huff of protest--something about the chair creaking and concerns as to the state of his legs that he wasn’t remotely worried about--as he nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck. Finally, she settled, resting her hands on his shoulders and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“Thank you for this, Roosey,” Walda said quietly, petting the velvet at his shoulders. “I know you don’t like Christmas or children or the fluffy stuff--”

“It makes you happy, Walda,” he cut her off, pulling her as tight against him as he could with the mass of pillows in the way. “That’s all that matters to me.”


End file.
